One million died to make this sound Can't learn the words if you don't know the feeling Can't get the feeling if you don't know the sound One million died to make this sound Your band Your band is bland Your band is bland ambition
Can't live on their remainders We'll starve on it for sure Their way is debt and prisons They are burning half the world A feast of filthy feasts, man Stale air and dead parades The pretense of their awful gardens Monuments the mess they've made Give me a goddamn shovel I'll dig my own damn hole We drank 'til morning made us Then ate the shit we stole
I learned it / at 17 / on drugs / and well policed / It kissed me / as I fell / with fists full / of ringing bells / So get fast / and get quick / with dum hearts / and swung hips / Our dreams / deserve it... (silk-screen that, ye twits, across thy internet...) (silk-screen that, ye twits, across thy internet...) One million died to make this sound...